Savage Me. . .

Christiana has gotten more then what she's asked for when she joined a mission to a dead city, where life is on the egde, and where hungry dogs hunt the streets. Christiana must complete her mission but would that but an end to her mission she set for her self?

1. DAY ONE, Hospital

THE BUILDING THAT ONCE STOOD TALL NOW CROWDS OVER THE SILENT CITY LIKE A MAN WITH a sore back. Street lights at the end of their life, but still glowing faintly. Winds pull with them a smell of smoke that has been recently burn down old buildings; blowing it against Christiana’s hood like it wants to know the face under it. Christiana’s hand’s hold the hood of her cot, keeping out the smell and the other holding her small hand gun in her pocket; feeling like a stranger to her surroundings. Holding the gun tighter she walks slowly taking her time getting use to shatter glass widows and the silence; only broken when a crow cried and the occasional cracking sound of rubbish blowing roughly against the torn up roads.Nothing Christiana though could survive here. But she had too; she had to find the others even if she was on her way to death. They had taught her to survive though anything, knife cuts, bullets and infections, all of this was part of her training; the life she was brought up in. Even though those were all studied and learned in good environments; never in real life. Christiana’s never shot a real person or stich up a real wound only on dummies did she do these things. Now she will find out if she could adapt to her surrounding or like some others die. Only way to find out was to keep going; keep looking for them. Looking at her watch she counted how many minutes it has been since she was strapped with harness belts and jumped out of a moving helicopter. Twenty minutes; her watch told her, she had been roaming empty streets for twenty minutes. Holding her gun tighter then possible she runs down a street with even bigger skyscrapers, her hilled boots clicking with every step. ‘Where are you?’ Christiana whispered, not expecting an answer. She could feel the panic rising in her chest; it was to quite for her comfort. She was so use to the sounds of laughter of her squad, they were her friends. They were always with her and now she didn’t have them here, with her, shoving at her shoulder when she didn’t get the joke; it felt wrong. They were the liveliest bunch of people Christiana’s ever meet and she didn’t want to lose them; she had to find them. It was her mission she found them, but to Christiana it was more than a mission, it was a need. Puffed out Christiana slowed her run to a walk and looked up; it was dark. Christiana was told that she had to find a building to sleep in, she didn’t know why but now she can understand; it was too cold and who knows what’s out there waiting for something to eat, at the thought of that goose bumps raised on her skin. There was an old hospital just around the corner, Christiana remembered from when she looked at the map. Passing what looked like a restrunt she pulled her gun out and lower her hood so she could see. The building was only twenty meters away; its widows were coving most of the building, the words HOSPITAL was meant to be lit up, but as Christiana could imagine were long out of power, and some letters had broken off, from the heavy wind that blow pass it. As Christiana walked closer her eyes scanned the inside through the window that had a little cracked in the middle of it. Nothing was moving in side that Christiana could see. Moving to the door she hit the butt end of the gun on the door widows, grateful they were already half broken; pulling out the glass not to carefully, she unlocked the door. The touch of the cold metal handle seeped through Christiana’s leather gloves, like the rest of what she wore was leather and black, but the cold still had that prickly feeling weather or not what Christiana wore was leather. Inside of the hospital was stylish furniture but some of it had been smashed up and a little bit burnt from a fire. The floor was once white but now covered with dirty foot prints and debris. Aside from that it still had the feel of a new hospital and the smell. It was a good place to stay in, one place Christiana was sure had beds. The reception was near a small shop fall of teddy bears, balloons with ‘It a boy’ and ‘it’s a girl’ written across it, pillows, blankets and small boxes with pink flowers and butterflies on them. Christiana has never seen what this kind of hospital look like, the ones she’s been in are removable like tents, and the beds were on wheels; they were always changing places. This hospital was permit; it wouldn’t swop places with apartment building or be carried across a bridge packed in a truck. Christiana grabbed a few blankets knowing she would need them, and hurried up the stairs to the fourth flight of stairs on the third level of the building. Christiana wasn’t tied by the time she got to a hall way; she was trained not to. The hallway was filled with so many blue doors but Christiana knew which one to choose; the one at the end of the hallway to her right, feeling that it would be safe there. The beds were all in rows and had dark pink curtains around them, only then did she realise that these rooms were for children. Christiana didn’t mind it at all; it made her relaxes in a way that was almost peaceful. Christiana had more energy then she would like for sleeping. Although her shoulders were aching Christiana didn’t want to dwell over something so small, her biggest problem had to be her only problem, that’s what her instructor would say. Taking off the blue backpack and placing it near the closes bed which was a foot shorter than her, Christiana takes out some clothes and blankets, and place them on the bed. She knew that no one was watching but she still felt that she had to pull the pink curtains across so she could change. As she put on a black singlet and long pair of jeans she remembered what her mother said to her ‘you find him, Christie, I know you can find him’ Christiana can still see her mother looking at her like she was when she was four, telling her that she didn’t know where one of her toys were her mother had told her that if she wanted them back it was up to her to find it; to remember where she had left it. Her mother is relying on her and she needs to do this; needs this for both of them. Christiana put her old clothes into the backpack and sorted out the blankets. When she was happy with it she sat cross legged on the bed like she always did, but this time it was different; it felt different. Ignoring the pain Christiana felt when thought about how alone she was, she pulled out a hand size tracking device, it was long and a little heavy but considering its size it was light. The screen was clear, no green dots showing up. Where are they? Christiana thought they can’t be that far out. There was no way of telling where they are, and Christiana thought it would be easy to find her team mates using the tracking device they gave her, but it was next to useless now. They have to be around four hundred meters out, that’s how far the tracking device can reach. Having not asked how far apart they were dropped off would have been Christiana first mistake so far and hopefully only; but that Christiana knew would be a waste of hope. Christiana reaches into her bag to pulls out a can of tuna salad and attached to it was a spoon/fork, which was placed in there when she first got the backpack. Christiana’s fingers hook into the pin of the lid and pull it until it peeled off, like always the smell didn’t fail to please her apatite. She forgot about what it tasted about until now, when her thoughts are only on the yummy taste of the tuna. Afterward when she licked her fingers she places the empty can on the small blue cabinet beside her, and lies on her back feeling her muscles relax and her breathing slow down, she closes her eyes and hears the soft sound of wind blowing the curtains.